


Gentle

by tipper_gore_vidal



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Canon - Comics, Episode: s03e21 Sozin's Comet Part 4 Avatar Aang, Hairbrushing, Missing Scene, Post-Comic: Bumi vs. Toph Round 1, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25887391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tipper_gore_vidal/pseuds/tipper_gore_vidal
Summary: Master Piandao wasn't used to people touching him, Sokka noticed.
Relationships: Piandao/Sokka (Avatar)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 26
Collections: The Piandao Library





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay with: translations and podifcs. Please just ask my permission first, and link me when you're done!
> 
> Not okay with: having my fic used in articles about fans or fandom.

Master Piandao wasn't used to people touching him, Sokka noticed. Of course he wouldn’t be, with only Fat for company in that big castle; neither of them seemed like the huggy type. His exhale was subtly heavier than usual as Sokka undid his topknot, and a muscle at the corner of his mouth twitched when his hair flopped down past the neckline of his robe. It was still mostly dark, but the debris of Toph and Bumi's wild sparring session left it pale-looking and gritty.

He doubted the swordmaster was as tender-headed as Katara claimed to be when she was little (he still thinks she was hamming it up for Gran-Gran), but Sokka began by combing the ends as gently as he could. He wasn’t sure Master Piandao could even feel it until he tilted his head back. His normally alert eyes were heavy-lidded.

Offering to help him brush out the dust felt incredibly weird after he helped Master Piandao fix his tent. Maybe he did it because he felt bad for encouraging the fight in the first place, no matter how fun it was (so, _so_ much fun). But he forgot the awkwardness in the glow of satisfaction that Master Piandao unhesitatingly accepted, barely agreeing before sitting cross-legged on the floor of his tent. The comb lay in Sokka’s lap as he pinched at a particularly stubborn chunk of dirt, dragging it down off the ends as softly as he could. Sokka was fascinated by how soft and thick his hair was under the grime, and how much dust it had attracted, even tightly bound in a topknot.

If Sokka asked, Piandao would say that a warrior always has perfect posture, but that didn't entirely explain how he could keep his back straight as the jian in its scabbard when every other line of his body was loose and soft. Sokka combed his way up to the bump from where he kept it tied. As he suspected, a knot had developed on the underside from keeping it up for so long. Sokka separated the unknotted top layer from the rest by dragging the pointy-edged comb handle through his hair, creating a straight line of exposed scalp. He swore he saw goosebumps prickle along what little of the back of Master Piandao’s neck he could see.

He tucked the hair he wasn’t working on over Master Piandao’s shoulder. Piandao swallowed before saying "You're very gentle."

"Lotta practice," Sokka said. Somehow, he didn't feel like bringing up his little sister.

"Ah, I can guess why." Piandao tilted his head down. 

Piandao’s eyes closed entirely when the comb touched the back of his neck. He sat patiently while Sokka worked out the knot and the grit, slowly working his way upward.

The bump in his hair looked almost comical, especially when Sokka took the hair he set aside back over Master Piandao’s shoulder. Sokka knew when he kept his hair in his warrior's wolftail (not a ponytail!) for too long, his scalp got sore; he was sure Master Piandao felt the same way sometimes. He ran the comb through the dirtiest part of his hair, by the top, where much of the dust settled.

On impulse, he touched his cool fingertips against where the tender spot would be. Piandao was too disciplined a man to make a noise, but his lips parted and Sokka heard a little huff of breath, a small 'oh' that made him want to do it again.

He circled his fingers two, three times on the spot, but didn’t dare linger for longer than that. He went back to combing after that, long smooth strokes that dislodged the rest of the dust from his hair. It was silent,with the sounds of the camp winding down as its occupants started to prepare dinner. Food. Sokka's stomach growled, but… for once, he could wait. 

Most of the dust was sprinkled over the back of Piandao's under-robe (he wisely decided to take off the White Lotus robe before they fixed the tent). He put the comb down. Sokka hesitated, his hand hovering over Master Piandao. When he finally started brushing, the warmth of Master Piandao's shoulder shocked him. Piandao seemed to come back to himself, aiding Sokka. Disappointment bloomed inside him as Master Piandao’s face once again became guarded. 

"Thank you Sokka, I can put it up myself," Master Piandao said as he held up the tie.

"Oh, uh. Right," he said. Well, obviously he couldn't leave it down. Sokka realized he should really go. In his rush to leave, he got tangled in the tent flap.


	2. Chapter 2

As he laid in his tent, Sokka wished he had a second pillow. His neck was getting sore, but he didn’t want to move the pillow from under his broken leg.

"Sokka? May I come in?"

"Sure," he said, without registering the voice. He struggled to stand up and bow when Master Piandao came in, still in his White Lotus robe. Piandao waved him off as emphatically as he could without spilling whatever was in the bowl he carried.

"What can I do for you?" Sokka asked.

"Sit up, if you’re able." Sokka obeyed, wincing as his leg protested.

There was a little more color than usual in Master Piandao's cheeks, which Sokka attributed to the hot Fire Nation summer. "I know you let your hair grow out when you were undercover, and was wondering if you needed help shaving your head."

Sokka didn’t say yes, but he didn’t need to.

The sight of Master Piandao kneeling beside his cot felt strange in a way Sokka couldn’t quite pinpoint. He took a small cloth from the bowl and wrung it out thoroughly before putting it on the back of Sokka's neck. Sokka almost sighed at the feeling; he had been so tense for so long that he almost forgot what relaxed muscles felt like.

He braced himself, but the first touch of the razor to the back of his neck didn't scrape at all. The hot water softened the hair, and he saw the deliberateness Master Piandao put into every part of his life. Sokka knew he wouldn’t get nicked.

The back of his neck was more sensitive than Sokka remembered, and seemed to get more so the more hair Master Piandao shaved off him. The razor passed smoothly, but the Master's hands were calloused from his sword and calligraphy brush. Sokka shivered.

"Didn't know you knew so much about Water Tribe haircuts," he tried to joke, but his voice sounded weak even to his own ears.

Sokka could feel Master Piandao's breath on the back of his neck before he answered.

"There's a Fire Nation hairstyle similar to your own. I adopted it for a time after leaving the army." His phrasing was deliberately mild, but Sokka knew what he meant.

Master Piandao made a contemplative hmm Sokka normally associated with a coming suggestion. "The sides are--"

"Not even, yeah," Sokka finished. Katara had made fun of him for it enough times, followed by Toph's obligatory "I think it looks great!"

"Not a lot of mirrors on the road," he felt compelled to explain, which was several degrees milder than _Well, you try shaving with a machete,_ but he knew he wasn't being made fun of.

"You do it all by yourself?" Sokka barely restrained himself from nodding.

The razor passed up to ear level. Sokka couldn’t help but lean into it, just a little.

"I'm going to leave some of the shorter hair on the right side to grow in," Master Piandao said. "To even things out.”

"Okay," said Sokka. His voice broke, and his face grew hot.

Sokka could almost feel every follicle as Master Piandao shaved up his head. Then, he felt the cloth again, not as warm but still nice. The second pass was quicker than the first, but Sokka still fought the urge to squirm. It wasn’t energy, but there was a tension thrumming through him that had no outlet for, couldn't even name.

He heard Master Piandao rinse off the razor before bringing it back up to Sokka’s head. The final strokes were around his hairline, creating the clean, precise lines that Sokka could never manage for himself. Then, Master Piandao's finger traced over his work before brushing off the last of the hair. He clicked his tongue.

"It will do."

"Thank you very much," Sokka said, and his voice came out an octave higher than usual.

"Get some rest, Sokka," Master Piandao said. His footsteps were light as he left. Sokka didn’t feel like he could now, but he couldn’t take a walk either. Each shift in the air currents felt distractingly strong on his newly-sensitive scalp and every so often he reached back to touch the exposed skin.

**Author's Note:**

> Concrit is welcome.


End file.
